


No Matter What

by BloodMonastery



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Temporary Character Death, Character Development, Death As Inspiration, Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - In Hushed Whispers, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Empath Main Character, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25424530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodMonastery/pseuds/BloodMonastery
Summary: In a terrible future where Alexius succeeded, the Inquisitor witnesses a heroic sacrifice, and it changes her.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor & Dorian Pavus, Female Inquisitor & Leliana (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 10





	No Matter What

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this when I should have been sleeping. Behold, the fruits of my insomnia:

Arinowen fidgets, slender fingers tap-tap-tapping quietly against the curved grip of her staff. Her weight never rests for very long on either foot. She watches Dorian work with wide green eyes that don’t really see him, and then she glances toward the door again. 

She can’t remember what the strange structure is called. It’s silly, but she wants to know. She dare not interrupt Dorian in order to ask, though. Every second is precious now, more than it ever has been before. 

She wishes she could _do_ something. But Dorian told her to stay here, so here she will stay. Despite the _despair fury terror bloodlust_ in the air tearing ravenously at the edges of her mind and her resolve.

The ground quakes, and chips of stone from the walls crumble down around the hearthstone where they stand. A wave of panic flows over her. (From Dorian or herself, she cannot tell.)

Arinowen swallows a whimper and looks down the length of the room at Leliana. Leliana, so strong and even, despite her withered limbs and bloody rags for clothes. Covered in scars that shouldn’t be there. _None_ of this should have ever happened. And it’s all her fault, it’s--

_BAM!_

_They're running out of time, running out-_

"Though darkness closes... I am shielded by flame." 

Leliana's voice cuts the air, clear and unfaltering. Arinowen feels her devotion, pulling at the strings of her soul just the same as Leliana draws back the string of her bow. It braces her, soothing the trouble from her veins.

For a small, sweet moment... the terror fades.

_BANG!_

The stone doorway bursts open, and demonic creatures the likes of which Arinowen has never seen march in with sinister purpose. One of them flings a corpse-- _Dread Wolf, that's Varric!_ \--off to the side and advances on Leliana. Arinowen lurches where she stands next to Dorian. _Don't move stay here_ \--But-!

Arrows sing and sink into flesh. Leliana's quiver is emptying but the demons advance, stepping over the arrow-riddled corpses of their comrades.

"Andraste, guide me. Maker, take me to Your side," chants Leliana with a fervor. 

Arinowen sobs outright as silver tears spill down her face. She steps forward but Dorian grabs her arm, harsh and panicked. "You move and we ALL DIE!"

Arinowen looks back and forth, her eyes flashing wildly green with the glow of the amulet between Dorian's hands. Indecision locks her in place on the hearthstone. She watches uselessly as the demons flood toward them, reeking of madness and death.

Leliana whirls, beating the creatures back with her bow as a makeshift two-handed bludgeon. 

In that moment, she is a firebrand. An ignited holy weapon of the Maker. An extension of His divine fury and justice. She burns bright to scorch back the unhealthy growth of The Elder One, making room for life to start anew as the Herald and Dorian escape to _make things right_.

But truly, it is all her own fire. Leliana is the flame, and the flame is borne in her, and nothing in this world or any other could possibly snuff it out.

An armored figure gets its hands on her, and grapples her into a stranglehold. 

Arinowen feels the cool, electric rush of a portal beginning to open behind her. Her Mark reacts, flashing and spitting magic.

A tree-like horror brings its great claws down in an arc, and Arinowen chokes soundlessly on her grief as Leliana's fire splatters across the cold, stone floor. 

She is tugged by her sleeve, and her vision warps. Dorian's intent washes warmly over her like a brother's embrace. Time is spread thin as parchment paper, punctured by the razor of the will of man, and Arinowen and Dorian are thrust through the space of a year in the length of a single step. They land, tears still glimmering on Arinowen's cheeks. Blood on both of their robes. Trembles in their fingers.

Dorian is quick on the mark. "You'll have to do better than that, Alexius," he says, and Arinowen is almost deceived by his tone, but she can feel the _exhaustion pain fright panic fear relief_ rolling off of him in nauseating waves.

Magister Alexius stares. He drops to his knees. 

Arinowen inhales, exhales, and scrubs the tears from her skin before she steps forward. 

"You've done enough. Your plan… it didn't work. Surrender, Magister. Accept defeat," she feels herself say. The shock of nearly everyone in the room, same as they had left it, pulses with her heartbeat.

Arinowen thinks of Leliana and all of the horror she just witnessed, and knows in her heart of hearts that she will give everything she has to ensure that that future will never come to pass.

**Author's Note:**

> I like sharing music. This is Arinowen's playlist: [Spotify Link](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1yiGPf6Wy98F5TDnIYt99F?si=WTeXRqz0SiystMLUfqwWfw)


End file.
